Getaway
by LillianLockhart
Summary: Harry Potter needs an escape from the daily pressures of being resident celebrity and DADA professor at Hogwarts. It would have worked out well, too, if it wasn't for that dastardly Professor Malfoy getting them stuck in a strange world of unpredictable magic and an oddly persistent string of romantic cliches.
1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

Summary: Harry, 25, needs to temporarily get away from the stress of daily life as Hogwart's resident celebrity and DADA professor, especially now that his childhood enemy is the Potions Professor. Harry gets a not-so-relaxing vacation when Malfoy's curiosity causes them both to be stuck inside a mysterious world of mysterious magic, swashbuckling pirates, and hostile island natives. Warnings: Violence, mature language, and scenes of a sexual nature later on.

_A/N: All of my other stories have been on temporary hiatus. I've been sick a lot recently and a lot of things have been going on in my life, which is also why I've been unable to beta very much. That said, this story has been wriggling through my mind, and I will be focusing on writing. I cannot accept any new beta projects for now, but if you message me about it, I will consider it and/or tell you when I'll be able to help you out. :)_

* * *

"Are you_ sure_ this will work?"

"Harry, for the hundredth time, yes!" Hermione Granger laughed, amused at her friend's obvious apprehension. They had been sat here on the floor of Harry Potter's sleeping quarters for several hours each evening over the weekend, plotting a particular charm that would allow Harry a temporary getaway from his stressful days as professor and resident celebrity at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Today found the both of them sitting cross-legged on the floor, a crystal globe between them.

Hermione gingerly placed the heavy book she was holding down onto the floor and looked back up into Harry Potter's concerned emerald eyes. "Trust me," she said softly, placing her hand atop her friend's knee. "Alright?"

Harry seemed to relax a little bit and he smiled at her, quickly nodding his head reassuringly. "I_ do_ trust you. Sorry, I'm just. . . ."

"I know." Hermione nodded, not needing him to mention the anxiety that had set in after the war. They'd all had some issues adjusting. Even now, when it had been around seven years since. She let these troubling thoughts about the past flutter away to focus on the present moment. She leaned back and began flipping through the pages of her book. "Like I've said, this is a fairly complicated charm, but it's nothing I can't handle. I've done it loads of times with some of my own books."

Looking at her with sudden interest, Harry asked "What sort of books?"

Curiously, the girl suddenly blushed a deep shade of pink. "W-well, you know. Just any old book that I want to get a better understanding of," she said quickly, waving her free hand as if to say it was of no interest to anyone. "Anyway, it's the same principle for this."

"Oh… alright. Perfect," Harry smiled, clueless to the girl's dodgy answer.

"Are you sure this is how you want it to look, then?" Hermione motioned to the globe for Harry to inspect once more.

Harry leaned forward to peek into the domed glass. He knew Hermione had transfigured it from a standard snow globe purchased at a muggle gift shop into this version, which was much more suitable for relaxation. In place of the usual winter scene, it held a sandy beach with a little cottage nestled cozily within a thick group of trees behind the shore.

"It looks great, Hermione!" Harry assessed, grinning.

"Alright then," she said, a light blush staining her face again. "We'd better do a practice test to make sure it works." Hermione slid the globe forward across the wooden floor and the motion disrupted the contents just enough to slosh gently against the sides. Harry watched it, starting to feel a bit nervous. "To enter, all you have to do is shake the globe and then put it back down. It will transport you to the beach in exactly ten seconds, allowing you plenty of time to put the globe on a secure surface so it doesn't fall. That's very important. If the globe breaks, you would be pushed out abruptly. You could get seriously injured."

"Okay," Harry nodded obligingly, having been told this information already. "Once I'm in, how do I get back out again?"

"There's a similar snow globe located inside the cottage. If you shake that one, it will transport you back here."

'Brilliant," Harry smiled again. "Thanks again for this – really. I know you didn't have to."

Hermione gave him a solemn smile. "I admit that I didn't think this was the best idea at first, but I can't blame you for wanting to get away from everything once in a while, Harry – especially with a Defense Against the Dark Arts class to teach."

It was true; his publicity had gotten several times worse after the rebuilding of Hogwarts. Harry couldn't seem to go anywhere outside the school without being bombarded by an army of reporters and fans trying to get an autograph. Even inside the walls of the castle, Harry was laden with frequent attention from his students. Some just wanted to talk to him while others wanted to snap a picture of him while he wasn't looking. The most annoying sort of attention came in the form of his _female_ admirers. He'd received three love letters just in these past few weeks from underage girls. The other day, a redheaded seventh year "accidentally" bumped into him in the corridor, and he distinctly felt her small hand touch his bum. He'd gone completely red while the girl choked out an apology and ran the other way, giggling uncontrollably. As if that hadn't been embarrassing enough with his best friend, Ron, laughing at him, he'd turned around to see none other than Draco Malfoy standing in front of him with a scowl on his face. The blonde had somehow snaked his way into the position of Potions Professor and Head of Slytherin House.

"Still having trouble with the fan club?" He had drawled in that particular way that got Harry's blood boiling. He hummed. "No, you didn't seem to be complaining. Maybe you're a bit of a pervert, eh?"

"Ignore him, Harry. He's just being an idiot," Ron said, puffing out his chest to show off his new Auror's badge as he turned to leave, pulling Harry along with him.

"Harry?" Hermione said, bringing him back to the present.

"Sorry, what?"

She sighed. "You've got a class starting in an hour, so go ahead and give it a go. I'll wait right here."

"You aren't coming in, too?" Harry asked, furrowing his brow.

"It's only meant for one person," Hermione said exasperatedly, as if she'd said it a hundred times. "Magic like this can be unpredictable. It shouldn't cause too much harm, but you'll need to keep it in a safe place – just in case."

Bracing for the unknown, Harry picked up the glass globe with both hands. As he shook it back and forth, the sand whizzed around the interior in circles, shrouding the cottage and trees from view. He began counting mentally, setting it back down onto the floor and closing his eyes.

Suddenly, he felt a pull behind his navel as if he was being transported by port key.

After a few seconds of nearly-maddening sensations and the sound of whistling wind, his knees hit a soft surface with a jolt. Harry opened his eyes to see innumerable particles of sand settling down from the air, revealing a life size version of the scene inside the globe.

Rising to his feet, Harry looked around. Sounds, smells, and sights hit his senses all at once, making his head swirl. Everything was oddly peaceful as the waves crashed against the shore in a steady rhythm and seagulls squawked from somewhere in the distance. The sea went on and on until the water met with clear blue skies, and Harry wondered idly how far this fake sea could go.

Harry turned away from the ocean and saw the cottage. It was situated far enough from the shore that the tide wouldn't reach it. He walked forward, his shoes sinking into the sand with every step. The trees rustled quietly in the breeze – the same breeze that Harry could feel on his face and in his hair, sweeping it off his forehead gently.

He reached the blue door of the cottage and turned the door knob, gently pushing to allow it to creak open. Instinctively expecting dust, Harry was surprised to notice it was completely spotless inside. As he walked through the tiny foyer, he noticed that the cottage had all wooden floors, and the paneled walls were all a matching soft grey color.

The home itself was minimally furnished, but still managed to look incredibly cozy. In the living room, the brick fireplace was surrounded by two plush-looking chairs and a small matching couch. Just across from this area was the kitchen and dining area. The kitchen was equipped with a stove-top oven, a magically-operated refrigerator, and fully stocked cabinets. Just between these two rooms (and directly in front of the foyer) was a spiral staircase that led up to the bedroom. He knew from the pictures Hermione used that the wash room would be outside in another, smaller room detached from the house. Walking over to the nearest window, Harry flung open the velvety blue curtains to reveal a perfect view of the inviting beach. Harry smiled. This would be perfect.

* * *

Harry's last class of the day on Wednesday consisted of putting his 4th year students' knowledge of dueling to the test. It was still pretty early in the year, so Harry didn't expect much exceptional wand-work yet. He had transfigured a few long tables into a suitable stage for the day, upon which stood two of his students – Jasper Fletchley and Penny Cromwell. Harry was sitting in the corner, his quill feather flicking about rapidly as he scribbled grades and notations of the match onto a piece of parchment.

To his annoyance, Professor Malfoy had decided to sit in on the class to watch. He would make noises every so often, like the quiet scoff when Jasper threw up his shielding charm far too late to avoid Penny's _confundus _charm and then the pitying groan when Penny mispronounced _expelliarmus_ so badly that even her wand seemed to sputter harmlessly, as if laughing at her.

"Would you mind keeping your judgments of my students to yourself, Professor Malfoy?" Harry spoke in his most polite voice. He was close enough to the blonde that he could keep his voice low so as not to be overheard by too many students.

"It's likely not the students' fault they've got _you_ as a teacher," Malfoy bit back lightly, chuckling to himself. "I'm actually a little sorry for them."

Harry couldn't help the glare he sent towards the other man. "I guess you think you could do a better job of it then?"

"Of course," came Malfoy's predictable reply.

"Let's test your knowledge, then. Duel me," Harry said evenly.

The class grew silent and many heads swiveled to look at the two professors, ignoring the stage where Jasper had just been hit with _petrificus totalus._

Harry watched as the blond opened and closed his mouth twice. He smirked, "scared, Malfoy?"

The irony of the question wasn't lost on Draco, who scowled. "You wish, Potter."

The two professors stood up slowly, pinning eachother with a challenging gaze. Without looking, Harry cast a quick _finite_ towards Jasper, who then followed Penny off the stage just as Harry and Draco took their places. Wands at the ready, Harry politely made his bow. Draco simply lowered his head. The two of them spun around and walked methodically away from eachother. As if on an inaudible cue, the both of them spun around again.

"_Expelliarmus!" _Harry bellowed immediately.

"_Protego!" _Draco preemptively called out, smirking when the spell was flung back towards Harry and sputtered against the wall behind him. "Honestly. Do you _know_ any other spells?"

Harry scowled. "_Confundis! Tarantallegra! Furnunculus!"_

Draco's eyes widened and he quickly cast _protego_, deflecting the spells just before they hit him. In a moment of silence as Harry caught his breath, Draco shot a hurried "Conjuntivitis!"

The curse hit Harry square in the face, and Draco almost grinned with glee. Harry's bright, emerald green eyes began to close as the skin swelled and his eyelids fused shut. Harry's face turned stony.

Draco sprung into action. "Rictusempra!"

"Protego" Harry said just in time, causing the harmless spell to hit the ceiling and fizzle out. Harry rolled his shoulders and faced Draco, raising his wand. He pushed forward little by little with each spell he cast as Draco took steps backwards to keep the distance between them. Finally, Harry cast another spell that caused ropes to fly out of the tip of wand towards Draco's legs. Before he could react, the ropes had wound their way around his ankles and all the way up to his thighs, tightening until Draco could no longer keep his balance. He wobbled and fell backwards onto his behind with a _thud._

"_Petrificus-" _the blond tried to croak out, but Harry's _expelliarmus_ was too quick and Draco's wand flung out of his grip and into the DADA Professor's waiting hand.

Harry's grin was cat-like as he stalked closer to the floored man with his eyes still glued shut. Draco tried to shuffle backwards, but with a surprising and sudden movement, Harry had front-flipped his way down the stage to the other man. Draco flinched, but Harry landed exactly over him, both feet planted firmly on either side of his hips. He then crouched down low enough to press the tip of his wand into the blond's pale neck and murmur "Looks like I win."

* * *

"I heard about what you did to Malfoy," Neville said conversationally to Harry over dinner. Neville had shown superb knowledge in Herbology during the last few years and ended up scoring the Herbology Professor position with ease once Professor Sprout had announced her retirement. "Good job, that."

Harry looked over at his friend, surprised. "You heard about that already?"

"Yer," Neville said around a mouthful of bread. "I'm sure the whole school knows by now. People are saying it was the most exciting class all year. Even overheard a few people saying it was the hottest thing they've ever seen."

Harry choked on his water, enticing Neville to clap him on the back with a grin. Harry sputtered "H-hottest?"

"Yer," Neville said again, grinning broadly. "Let's see. What were their words? 'Two of the most attractive young professors in Hogwarts (aside from myself, of course) having such an intense moment as if no one else was in the room.'

'Moment?" Harry mouthed to himself in horror.

"I didn't hear any more, though, after one of them mentioned how you tied him up, threw him to the floor, and straddled his lap-"

A loud clattering interrupted Neville's story and the two brunettes looked up to see the potions professor himself leaping up from the professor's table and walking swiftly towards the exit, looking ready to sprint out of the room.

Harry, now beet red, covered his face with his hands and groaned. "This is just what I need. More rumors about my love life."

"Don't worry, Harry," Neville nudged him with his elbow. "I don't mind if you're gay. Or if you're secretly in love with Malfoy."

Harry lowered his hands and glared at Neville.

_"What?"_

* * *

A few days later

* * *

Draco approached Potter's living quarters and heaved a deep sigh as he raised his hand to knock on the door.

No answer.

"Potter?" He tried knocking again. To his surprise, the door creaked open from the weight of his fist this time. Candlelight flickered across the walls from somewhere inside, but there was no sign of Potter. "You weren't at the meeting yesterday," he called out again. "Irresponsible of you. So, McGonagall sent me up here to give these to you." He said, waving a few rolls of parchment in the air as if Harry could see them. After a few moments of silence, Draco sighed. "Alright, I'll just leave them on the table then." He strode forwards and laid them on the common room table, next to a curious-looking glass ball containing a scene of a serene beach. Draco's eyes snapped to it in interest.

Unable to squash his curiosity, Draco picked up the curious object. As he did so, the ball tilted, causing the grains of sand to swirl around rapidly. He twirled it again, shaking so that the rest of the sand was disrupted. He watched the sand whiz rapidly against the inside of the glass with a frown. _What a strange… thing. Must be Muggle, _he decided, just before he disappeared.

The globe hit the carpeted floor with a loud crack.


	2. Chapter 2

Finals are over! Time to write. I feel like I'm getting a little better at this, but that could just be my opinion. Feel free to send me constructive criticism.

Getaway Chapter 2

Harry awoke with a start, his heart beating wildly in his chest. The seaside cabin was shaking with such a force that he was sure it was going to come crashing down on his head at any moment. Inanimate portraits clattered noisily against the wooden walls and the couch he was sitting on swayed back and forth. There was a vague creaking noise that Harry was certain came from everywhere in the house at once. He fought for balance as he stood to make his way to the door, but the quaking slowed to imperceptible levels by the time he reached the foyer. He stopped and scratched the back of his head, perplexed.

_Do magical beaches normally have earthquakes?_

The rumbling of the quaking house melted into the sound of thundering rain. Harry strode forwards and wrenched open his front door to peer out into the night. Black and grey undulated against eachother in the night sky while rain pelted the land and sea.

The ocean lapped at the shore violently and, in the lull between two rolls of thunder, Harry heard a yell. Lightning flashed, and then he saw it – what looked like a person flailing in the ocean, bobbing up and down with the waves. Without thinking twice, Harry ran to the ocean at a full sprint, clumsily shucking off his shoes and T-shirt as he went. Just as he was able to get close enough, the unidentified figure dropped below the surface. Harry's heart leapt in his throat, and he dived in.

The bitter cold water rushed thickly against his ears, muffling the sounds going on above. He squinted through the dark waters, but could not see anything resembling a person. Despairing, Harry returned to the surface to catch a breath before diving back in, his determination stronger. He pushed forward as much as he could, but the force of the waves didn't let him get very far. Just as he was about to resurface, he saw a glittering of white in the light of a lightning strike. Kicking with all his strength, he pushed further down and stretched out his hand towards the body. A current pushed them apart just out of reach again, but Harry renewed his efforts. With burning lungs, Harry's hand finally found purchase on the fabric of the person's clothing. Holding on tight, he pulled the now-noticeably male body towards him, wrapped an arm around his waist and fought to reach the surface.

Finally, the two of them crashed – rather than landed – on the beach and Harry began to cough and sputter. The other man hadn't made a sound, Harry suddenly realized with a feeling of dread as he tried pointlessly to see him through the rain and darkness. He moved fast, hoisting up the surprisingly light figure into his arms with a grunt and running into the safety of his cottage. By the fireplace – which was still burning brightly – he laid the man down and felt his stomach drop low as recognition settled in. His eyes roaming over the blonde man's ashen face, Harry grabbed his wand from the floor where it had rolled during the quake. He cursed, instantly remembering the globe's protection against wand use. He threw it to the side in frustration, looking at Draco Malfoy's still chest. Recalling a muggle resuscitation lesson Hermione had once made him learn a few years back, Harry knelt by Draco's side and quickly got to work, mechanically going through the motions of trying to free the man's lungs of seawater.

Finally, Draco Malfoy's body jerked violently, and he coughed up a mess of water on the wooden floor.

Harry patted the gasping man's back, relieved beyond words. He breathed evenly now, not realizing he had been holding his breath.

Draco fell back against the floor moments later, looking up at Harry and breathing heavily. "You –"

He didn't get to hear what he was, because the blonde fainted.

* * *

Harry was in a panic.

He paced back and forth between the two main rooms of the cottage, repeatedly running his hands through his hair and glancing at the sleeping form of Draco Malfoy taking up the couch. The blonde's chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, oblivious to the trouble he had caused.

He stared at the window, where flashes of lightning still lit up the night sky. It was nearly two in the morning and the storm had not let up by much. He had already showered and put on a dry pair of sweatpants and a cotton T-shirt, but no amount of comfort had allowed him to sleep. He glanced again at the little glass globe on his kitchen table, which was showing a smallish crack through the top of the dome. How many times he'd shaken it since Malfoy passed out, he couldn't say, but it was as if the charm had never existed.

He stood there for several moments, trying to control his reeling thoughts once more. It was going to do him no good until Malfoy woke up. He might as well try and get some sleep.

* * *

Draco drifted lazily into consciousness. He was very warm, he noticed - and dry. Why that was important, he didn't quite remember. There was a blanket wrapped around him that held a strange scent. Sounds were registering in his brain now – crackling fire, muffled rain, and thunder. His eyes snapped open, and he froze mid-stretch. There was an unfamiliar ceiling overhead, and it appeared to be daytime.

With a start, Draco remembered the glass globe port key and looked around frantically, throwing the blanket off with a flourish and staring at his surroundings. It was clearly a holiday cottage – bordering on too small with far too many paintings. Dim light filtered in through the curtains, and rain could be clearly heard now, pattering gently against the window panes.

"You're alive."

Draco's attention snapped to Harry Potter sitting at a small dining table, and he felt a little irritated that he hadn't noticed someone was watching him. He was holding a white mug of some steaming liquid in his hand and looked tired. "Potter," he said woodenly. "Where are we?"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "My _private_ quarters, Malfoy – a place that _you_ shouldn't even be."

The blond rose to his feet and walked towards the little table, eyes narrowed. "It's not my fault your door was wide open. McGonagall sent me to give you paperwork that you _should_ have been present to receive yourself."

"So you thought you'd just waltz in and touch my personal belongings, then?" Harry's gaze was stony, his hands gripping his mug tightly in barely-controlled anger.

Draco shrugged nonchalantly, looking around as if very much interested in the walls. "It's not as though I'd be interested in stealing anything you own, Potter."

Harry set his mug down and rounded the table to stand directly in front of him, pinning him with an intense stare. Malfoy caught his gaze and held it challengingly. Harry narrowed his eyes. "This is more serious than theft, Malfoy."

With the other man being this close – and without the distraction of a duel – Draco could vaguely catch the scent of mint and Earl Grey on his breath, and the darker, more sultry scents that must have belonged to Harry himself. His wild black hair was even more out of control than usual. One lock of hair was curled onto his cheek, just barely brushing the corner of Potter's moving lips.

"What?" Draco blurted, realizing with a stab of shame that Potter had been talking and moving closer during his internal musings. It was just because he was surprised the savior of the wizarding world would smell so bad, he insisted internally.

"Aren't you listening?" Harry groaned in frustration. He poked a finger at Malfoy's chest. "We're stuck in here for Merlin knows how long, and it's _your_ fault!"

"What?" Draco said again, this time with a worried expression. "Can't you just reverse the spell and get us out?"

"No, I can't bloody well 'reverse the spell'! It was Hermione's charm, and it was only meant for one person. Who knows what damage you've done by blundering into my room and getting yourself sucked into this?!"

"I did not _blunder,"_ Draco stated emphatically. "I was sent to find you. Your door was open, so I was going to check if you were in and just leave the papers on the table if you weren't. I didn't intend to touch the ridiculous ball thing! I was just…" _Curious._ Draco set his jaw and looked away from Potter's eyes, not comfortable with admitting he was curious over a silly muggle invention. "You don't just leave your door open with portkeys sitting out in the open like that! It's like you _wanted_ this to happen."

Harry tangled his right hand in his hair in apparent frustration. "It's not a portkey! We're still in my room, and _why_ would I want to be stuck on a beach with _you?_"

"It all makes sense now, actually," Draco smirked, his eyes lighting up suddenly. "People have been saying you're bent for ages."

Harry's eyebrows shot up, "_What?"_

"-and that little tussle in your classroom yesterday really turned you on."

"Wha- That's-"

"So you concocted this rather obvious plan to get me stuck in a house with you so we would set aside our differences and shag like rabbits."

It was quiet for a moment as Harry clenched his fists and finally shook his head. "Malfoy, that is _NOT _the case. I was trying to enjoy some peace and quiet – _alone._" Harry sighed and hid his face in his hands. "I really hope Hermione finds a way to get me out of here."

"Don't be so dramatic, Potter. I'm sure everyone will come running the moment they realize you're not there to rescue kittens or kiss babies."

"You don't get it, Malfoy! This place was set up so I could get some damn _alone_ time. She probably wouldn't be surprised if I didn't show up until _Monday_!"

Draco gaped at him then. "Monday? I can't stay here until Monday!"

"I'm not pleased about it either, Malfoy!" Harry snapped.

"Bloody hell, Potter, what do you normally do to get out of here? Have you tried that?!"

"No, not at all," Harry deadpanned, giving Malfoy a sardonic look. "Of _course_ I've tried it!" He waved a hand towards the dining table where there stood a twin globe to the one located in Potter's actual room. "It doesn't do anything now, and there's a crack on the top. It must have happened last night during the storm."

_Storm?_ Draco blinked at the memory of last night's events which very nearly left him drowned in a mysterious ocean with no one the wiser. Except he had been saved, he remembered. Draco swallowed thickly with a frown, deeply uncomfortable. "Maybe you're doing it wrong," Malfoy finally said, storming over to the table and picking up the globe in one hand.

Harry only raised a brow and retrieved his mug, sipping at the still-steaming liquid.

The blond lightly shook the object and waited. When nothing happened, he grasped it firmly with both hands and shook it back and forth as hard as he could, his eyes screwed tight. After a few moments, he cracked open his eyes to see that he was still in the cabin with Harry looking at him over the rim of his cup.

"There's also anti-magic charms on this place. I've already tried that, too. Apparition doesn't work, either, since we're technically still at Hogwarts. Tea?" Harry asked conversationally.

Draco scowled in return, setting the globe back down onto the table harshly. For lack of a better, and perhaps Harry Potter-less, place to storm off to in the tiny cottage, he headed up the spiral staircase.

He came back down a few moments later. "Where's the loo?"

"Outside."

"Brilliant," Draco muttered sarcastically, stomping off.

Harry watched him leave with a bemused expression. "There's an umbrella in the coat closet."

His answer was the sound of the door slamming shut.


End file.
